Your ghost
by cassiemortmain
Summary: Sybil Crawley is the bridesmaid at her friend Gwen's wedding, to be held at Downton Abbey which was sold by the Earls of Grantham nearly a century before and which is now a five star hotel. While she is there, she experiences something mysterious and extraordinary, which helps her understand more about her family's past, and perhaps her own future… Rock the Paranormal AU!


_Author's note_

This Sybil x Tom modern AU one-shot was born from a conversation I had with foojules, a very talented S/T author (read her stories if you haven't already!), about an album from the 90s we both loved by Kristen Hersh, the opening track of which gave this story its title. Happy birthday to you, my friend! I hope you enjoy this. It also fits in with a few other themes in our fandom right now – S/T Smut Weekend, Lady Sybil Lives, and Rock the Paranormal AU.

Thanks to repmet and buecherdieb for encouraging me to publish this story during a difficult time for our fandom, and to angiemagz who prepared the beautiful cover art. I appreciate your support, so much!

* * *

**Your ghost**

The bulky cream envelope, addressed by hand, stood out in the usual pile of junk mail and bills Sybil pulled from her mailbox when she got home one evening. She dropped it on the table as she came into her flat, heading for the fridge and grabbing a cold beer before she sat down. She ripped the envelope open – was it what she thought it was?

_Sybil Crawley and Guest_

_Are cordially invited to_

_The wedding of_

_Gwen Dawson and Jon Stark_

_To be held at Downton Abbey, North Yorkshire_

_Dress – cocktail_

She smiled as she read Gwen's hand written note at the bottom – "Thanks so much for being my bridesmaid, Sybil – we'd love you to bring someone! xxx"

_Mmmm, some chance of that!_ Since she and Larry had broken up more than a year before, Sybil had not been on more than one date with anyone. She told herself it was because she was so busy at work, but she did feel as if there were something missing from her life – she just hadn't found it yet.

And as for the venue – Sybil had never even been to Downton Abbey, the ancestral seat of the Earls of Grantham. It had had to be sold off lock, stock and barrel in the 1920s, thanks to a series of poor investments by the then Earl. The gardens were managed by the National Trust now, while the house had ended up as a five star hotel and wedding venue. Her parents, the current Earl and Countess, had lived for all her life in a charming house in Harrogate where she had grown up, and that was the place she considered "home", not this stately pile of stones. _Still, it will be interesting to take a look at the old place…_

* * *

_Two months later_

Sybil looked out the window of the cab as it arrived at Downton Abbey on the evening before the wedding, and she couldn't help but be impressed by its beauty and grandeur. She didn't feel any sense of affinity for it, though – to her, it was just another fancy house, like hundreds of others all over England. She grabbed her bag out of the boot and headed in through the double doors to be met by Gwen, who flew across the entry hall to wrap her in a hug, nearly knocking her over in her excitement.

"Sybil, you're here! So great to see you!" Gwen looked beautiful, glowing with the radiance of a truly joyful bride.

Her fiancé wasn't far behind her. Jon was as rough and shaggy as Gwen was petite and elegant, but his adoration for her was written all over his face and the feeling was definitely mutual – "Hey Sybil, great you could make it."

Sybil kissed them both fondly. "So, quite a place you've picked for the wedding – very fancy!"

Gwen smiled – "I know, I am so lucky – being an orphan myself, there's no way I could have afforded a place like this, but Ned and Kat have been so sweet, they offered to help us pay for everything, which they really didn't need to do."

She spoke fondly of her parents in law to be – a taciturn, Northern couple, they doted on their eldest son and had been only too happy to welcome the lovely, vibrant Gwen into their family when she fell in love with Jon two years earlier.

"So, Sybil – the manager of the venue, Mrs Hughes, will show you to your room – ah, here she is!"

Sybil turned around to greet a kindly, middle aged woman who was coming towards her.

"It's my pleasure to meet you, milady. I'm Elsie Hughes – if there's anything you need while you are here, do let me know."

"Oh, please call me Sybil – I never use that silly title. Thanks for your welcome. I do have an old family connection with this place though, dating back years – maybe I can have a look around tomorrow. Would that be OK?"

"Yes, of course, Sybil – I'd be happy to give you the tour before the wedding gets underway."

Sybil walked up the main stairs to the main corridor. Mrs Hughes led the way to a room about half way along, opening the door and handing her the key.

"Here you are – dial 0 for reception if you need anything. Dinner will be served at 6.30 – just make your way downstairs once you are ready, it's pretty informal tonight."

She pulled the door shut behind her and Sybil was left alone in a large, beautiful room that looked out over the gardens.

She immediately felt a strange shiver down her spine, as if there were a cold draught coming from somewhere – _Must be a goose walking over my grave_ – and tried to shake off the feeling that there was someone there, close by, watching her. She took a quick shower and as she was leaning into the mirror to put on her lipstick, she thought she caught a glimpse of a face in the mirror, but when she turned around, there was no-one there… _Get a grip, for God's sake!_

Once she was ready, she headed downstairs to meet up with Gwen and the rest of their crew of friends, for a lovely, casual evening with great food and a few glasses of red. Gwen sat on Jon's lap in the big armchair in the library at the end of the evening, waving her glass around as she told a story, Sybil laughing along with her. They prompted each other with more details, each more outrageous than the last –

"And then, do you remember…"

"Oh yes, and then he said…"

"I still can't believe you did that..."

"Look who's talking - how about the way..."

Around eleven, the party broke up and Sybil came back upstairs to her room, feeling pleasantly tipsy. As she opened her door, she thought she caught a glimpse of someone in a white nightgown just whisking away out of sight, but as she came in, she could see she was alone. "Hello?" she called out, feeling foolish, but then she had that same cold, prickling feeling on her skin that she had experienced before dinner. _What the hell is going on? I must have had one too many._

She brushed her teeth and braided her hair, pulling on a tank top and drawstring pajama bottoms. She turned off the light and got into bed, turning over and over – normally, she was out like a light once her head hit the pillow, but there was something keeping her awake tonight, something she couldn't understand or explain.

Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep, and began to dream vividly. She was still in that same room, but out of bed and wide awake, dressed in a simple cream nightgown with lace trim. She wasn't herself in the dream – she was the last Crawley occupant of that room, from a century before, the previous Lady Sybil, and she was waiting anxiously for a knock on the door….

* * *

_Sybil paced back and forth, her hands clasped before her – "Where is he? Can he come?"_

_She heard a knock on the door at last, and she knew – it was him! She crossed the room quickly, opening the door to reveal a well muscled, blue-eyed man in shirtsleeves and dark green livery trousers. She grabbed his hands, pulling him into her room and closing the door, and looked up at him, knowing he was her husband, her soul mate, the man that she loved most in the world, that she would love forever. Their eyes met and locked, each drinking the other in, hands clasped tightly together._

_"Darling, let me look at you, I never dare to look at you properly unless we're alone, I'm afraid someone will see…"_

_Tom's eyes burned into hers in the lamplight, and she knew he was right. His whole heart was in that look, and if anyone saw him gazing at her like that, their secret would be revealed. He put one hand up to her soft cheek, catching a tear as it fell from her eyes – _

_"Tom, oh sweetheart, I have missed you so much."_

_Wordlessly, he pulled her into his arms, one hand tangling in her hair to turn her face up to his. Their lips met, passion flaming up between them in a moment as his tongue found hers. She felt her body respond instantly to his touch and her hands came up around his neck, pulling him down even closer to her. They sank more deeply into their kiss, arms wrapped tightly around each other, holding on for dear life._

_Once they moved apart, she pulled him back towards the bed – "Darling, please…"_

_____They had been married for more than a year now, but it was so difficult to find the chance to be together as man and wife that, every meeting, they were charged with the desperate hunger of newlyweds for each other. __Now that they were alone again, they both wanted to savour every moment of shared longing, drawing it out almost to breaking point…._

___He picked her up in his arms and _carried her over to the bed, putting her down on the covers before lying down beside her. They started to kiss again, more deeply this time, and as she pulled away from him, she felt dizzy, out of breath.

_His fingers reached for the neckline of her nightgown and she sat up, pulling it off over her head, revealing her body to his eager eyes as he quickly unbuttoned his own shirt. His mouth moved down her throat, finding her breasts. He sucked her nipples, making them rise up between his lips, as his hands stroked her velvety skin, warming it with his touch.  
_

_"Sybil, oh God, my darling, I've been longing to be with you like this again – it seems like forever…"_

_Sybil arched her back, loving every touch of Tom's hands and lips on her body. He traced a path of burning kisses along her ribcage, across her stomach from hip to hip, and then down to that tender place she was longing for him to touch. He moved down between her legs and gently put his mouth on her, sliding his tongue in to find her clit and starting to tease it._

_"Oh, yes, please love, yes…"_

_He pushed a finger inside her, stroking her from the inside and beginning to move his tongue a little faster against her, adoring the feeling of giving her so much pleasure as he heard her gasps becoming increasingly ragged. He kept leading her towards that inevitable end, lifting her and pulling her back like the tide, again and again..._

_She felt her excitement begin to peak and her whole body vibrated against his lips as she came. She tried to stifle a scream with one hand, while the other one grabbed his hair, holding him there a little while longer as the ripples of euphoria spread outwards from her core, like those left behind when a stone falls into a pond..._

_"Oh Tom, oh my God!"_

_He moved up beside her, holding her tightly against him, cradling her as he murmured in her ear how much he adored her, how much he loved being with her like this __–_ "Sybil, I love you so much, so very much, my beautiful wife…."

_They remained entwined for several minutes, sharing that sense of connection and intimacy that bound them so tightly together through these difficult times of their secret love, their forbidden marriage._

_Soon, she wanted more from him. Her hands fumbled for the fastening on his trousers, feeling his erect cock longing for release. He pulled off his remaining clothes and dropped them to the floor, leaving him as naked as she was._

_Then, he rose up above her on one elbow, eyes blazing into hers. Their mutual longing was utterly consuming them now, as he held back a moment before driving into her tight, slick core with a force that made the breath leave her body._

_Sybil braced herself against the bedhead with one hand, pushing back against him as hard as she could, rising to meet each thrust as he slammed into her, again and again, both of them relishing the wild intensity of their union ..._

_"Tom, oh God, more, harder, please..."_

_Tom's other hand slid down between them, finding the place where they were joined, and he began to stroke her swollen bud gently as he buried his face in her neck, drowning in the sweet scent of her hair..._

_"Sybil, oh Christ – you feel so good, I can never get enough of you…." _

_She was still so strongly aroused from his earlier attentions that it did not take long for her orgasm to overwhelm her again, even more fiercely this time, her eyes rolling back into her head, her swollen lips falling open as she let out a long sigh._

_He relished the amazing feeling of her body convulsing around him and felt himself lose control as well. He groaned and collapsed on top of her, feeling her body still wracked with the aftershocks of their lovemaking._

_He rolled down beside her, their bodies still joined, his hands stroking her breasts, her stomach, her hips, his mouth reaching blindly for hers. She could feel tears start to fall down her face again as she pressed her body against his, all along its length, feeling their skins cleave together as the sweat cooled._

_"Tom, darling – I can't stand keeping us a secret – I want to tell everyone about us, but I know we can't. It's tearing me apart, love."_

_"Sybil, I want that too, so much – once I find a job, we can get ready to leave this place and tell everyone that we are married. I have a good feeling about that last application - you know the editor liked that portfolio of writing I sent him..."  
_

_"Tom, you know how much I believe in you, in us, don't you? I know our lives in Dublin will be everything we ever dreamed - all the sweeter for having to wait a while..."_

_"Oh Sybil, my darling …"_

_He couldn't speak, his throat swelling with emotion as he tightened his grip on her, holding her against his heart, never wanting to let her go. He cradled her head in his hand as she nuzzled into the crease between his chest and his shoulder, that special spot which she loved to claim as her own, while his other arm curved around her waist, pulling her in as close as he could…_

_It wasn't long before he felt himself start to want her again. The dawn was still a few hours away, and who knew when the next chance to be with her like this would come along? He tipped her face up to his and they began to kiss again, kisses both of them wanted to last forever...  
_

* * *

Sybil woke up in the early morning, her whole body trembling and throbbing intensely. _What the hell happened to me last night?_

She jumped out of bed and checked her door – locked. She ran to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror – she could see the traces of tears on her cheeks, and her hair was a mess, but otherwise she looked just the same as she did most mornings after a few drinks the night before.

She got straight under the shower, trying to clear her head, and it didn't take her long to be dressed and downstairs for breakfast. She was the first one to arrive and could only pick at a piece of toast while sipping a black coffee, trying to get her head together.

She saw Mrs Hughes coming towards her – "How are you today, Sybil? You look a little flushed – is everything OK?"

Sybil nodded, getting up from the table – "Yes, I'm fine, thanks Mrs Hughes - just not a morning person. How about you? Would now be a good time to see those family photos?"

"Of course, just this way…" Mrs Hughes guided Sybil into a large, well lit room with book cases all around it – along one wall, she could see a set of old, faded photographs. Coming closer, she was stunned – she could see her own face on the wall!

"Who is that, Mrs Hughes?"

"That's the youngest daughter of the last Earl to live here, Lady Sybil."

"I'm named after her – she is my great, great, great aunt I think – but I never saw her before. It's like looking in a mirror!"

Mrs Hughes looked at the picture, then back at Sybil – "You're right, you do have a real look of her."

Sybil's eyes moved along the picture and she let out a gasp – Lady Sybil was clasping the arm of a man who was looking at her with the same look of adoration she had seen in his face the night before – the man from her dream!

"That's her husband beside her – Tom Branson. It was quite the scandal at the time, I believe – they fell in love while he was working as a chauffeur for the family, and they married without telling anyone in 1916, during the war. I believe they used to meet in secret – sometimes she would sneak down to his cottage near the garage, and other times he would make his way into her room in the middle of the night. Anyway, it all came out in late 1917 when he found a job back in Dublin, where he came from. One night, he came to the drawing room after dinner, and then they held hands and announced their marriage to her family, as calm as you please! Oh, the Earl was furious, as you might imagine, but nothing would shake them."

"What happened after that?"

"They went back to Ireland and stayed there, all through the Civil War. Sybil kept working as a nurse while Tom made his way up the ladder to be the managing editor of one of the newspapers there, and they did all they could to work for a peaceful resolution in Ireland. They had four, or maybe five children I think, and quite a tribe of grandchildren and great grandchildren. They lived long lives, well into their 80s. I think he died first, and she only lasted a week once he was gone – they were as much in love on their last day together as they had been on their wedding day, and it was said her heart simply broke without him."

Sybil sighed on hearing this story, and, as cynical as she was about anything paranormal, she started to have an inkling of what she might have experienced last night….

"Mrs Hughes – have you ever heard of any ghosts here, at Downton Abbey?"

"Funny you should ask that – yes, in fact, we have heard guests tell of hearing a knock on their door, late at night, and of a lady in a white nightgown roaming the corridors, looking for someone. Did you hear anything strange?"

Sybil smiled, shaking her head – "I thought I did, but it was probably just my imagination."

Was it possible that the intense love shared by the earlier Lady Sybil and her husband had imprinted itself on the room she had slept in last night, where they had met in secret? Had she transmitted the memory of their love from beyond the grave via her dream somehow? Could this be the explanation for the Downton Abbey ghosts Mrs Hughes had spoken of?

She sighed, realising that what she had gone through was something she would probably keep to herself for the rest of her life – she couldn't even explain it to herself, let alone someone else! Seeing Gwen coming downstairs, hand in hand with Jon, she ran to greet them – "Happy wedding day, you two! Now come on, let's get you some breakfast."

As the happy couple trailled into the dining room, Sybil smiled – she already knew that her astonishing experience last night, whatever it was, had made a lasting impression on her. In particular, it had given her an idea of what real love could mean, and she would be on the watch for it in her own life, now that she knew what she was looking for...

* * *

Sybil walked down the aisle ahead of Gwen, feeling much more girly than she was used to in a deep turquoise, draped chiffon dress and with her long hair twisted into a curly bun, trying not to walk too fast or drop her bouquet of cream and pale pink roses. She scanned the faces on either side, looking out for the people she knew, and felt her stomach drop to the floor – _Who the bloody hell is that? Surely it can't be…_

She spent most of the short ceremony in a daze, her eyes irresistibly attracted to a particular face in the crowd, although she smiled and wiped away a tear as Gwen and Jon made their vows. As the celebrant told them they were now husband and wife, Jon grabbed his bride, bent her backwards and snogged her in a most un-wedding like way, while everyone cheered and clapped.

Mr and Mrs Stark came back down the aisle and Sybil followed on the arm of the best man, Jon's brother Robb, but she only had eyes for the mysterious guest. Mrs Hughes had everything set up like clockwork, and as Sybil reached the reception, someone pushed a glass of champagne into her hand… _God, I needed that! _

"Sybil, have you met Tom?" Gwen was doing the hostess thing, making sure all her guests were having fun, and she grabbed Sybil's hand and dragged her over to meet someone on the other side of the room.

"Hi there, great to meet you – Sybil, was it? What a beautiful name…" A tallish, well built man with dark blond hair smiled at her.

Sybil returned his smile, feeling slightly faint as she stared into his deep blue eyes, eyes she had seen the night before, burning into hers with a passionate flame…. Their eyes locked, and as one moment stretched into several, Gwen ostentatiously cleared her throat and said loudly – "I better go and see what Jon is up to," walking away and leaving them to it.

"This is going to sound like the cheesiest line ever, but – have I met you before somewhere?"

"No, I don't think so – what's your name again?"

"Tom, Tom Branson."

_Tom Branson? What the fuck is going on here?_ "Where are you from, Tom?"

"Dublin – lived there my whole life. How about you, Sybil?"

She felt a shiver go up her spine at the way he said her name – _God, that accent... _"I was born not far from here, in Harrogate, and I live in London now. Gwen and I met at nursing school. How do you know them?"

"Jon and I met on a mutual friend's stag weekend a couple of years ago, and hit it off – we meet up sometimes and drink too much beer in various European capital cities, and every once in a while he comes to Dublin, or I come to London."

His eyes twinkled at her and she felt herself blushing like a teenager with a crush – _Sybil, get it together, he is going to think you are some kind of loser…_

"So have you been to Yorkshire before?"

"This is my first time. I'm actually checking out some family history while I'm here – an ancestor of mine - my great, great, great uncle I think, not sure how many greats, had a connection with this place."

"Really?"

"Some kind of turn of the century forbidden romance – he was a chauffeur here and ran away with the daughter of the house. What was her name again? Anyway, my mum asked me to check it out – she's the historian in our family."

"You are kidding me – are you winding me up?"

"No, why?"

"Because the woman he ran away with was my ancestor – I'm named after her! This used to be our family home, years and years ago…"

"Sybil – Crawley? Seriously? What are the odds?"

Their eyes met again, and this time Sybil's sense of déjà vu was so strong, she shook her head to try and clear it. She swallowed and took a chance –

"Want to come with me? I saw some old family photos this morning, the manager showed me – I think your great, great whatever is in them too."

"That'd be cool, thanks." He extended his hand to her and, without thinking, she took it. As his strong, warm fingers curled around hers, she felt as if she must be dreaming… _How can this be happening?_

She led him into the library and showed him the pictures, pointing out the Bransons and retelling the story she had heard from Mrs Hughes earlier that day. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a glimpse of something, but when she turned around, there was nothing there.

"Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing, nothing at all, in fact everything is perfect."

"So, does this mean we're related?"

"No, only by marriage…" She blushed as she realised how that might sound, and looked down at the floor.

_God, this woman is absolutely gorgeous! If she is anything like her ancestor, I can see why Uncle Tom broke all the rules to be with her!_ He put his finger under her chin, tilting up her face towards his, and joked, "Well, maybe we can have a drink first, and see how things go from there?"

"I'd love that, thank you. Maybe we can score some champagne from that red haired waiter?"

"I'll go – you wait here, Sybil, don't move. I'll be back in a sec."

Sybil watched him walk away, feeling her breath catch in her throat as he turned back and gave her a wink. She looked back at the pictures of Sybil and Tom Branson on the wall, and she almost felt as if they smiled at her. Somehow, she knew that wherever these two were now, they were together, always – a love that strong, like the one she had felt between them last night, could never be lost.

She sent a silent message of thanks to the ghosts of their long ago ancestors for paying her a visit last night to share their story. _I have a feeling a new chapter is about to begin… keep your fingers crossed for me, Aunt Sybil!_

******The End**

* * *

_A/N - _

This story had some prompting from a theory I read about recently, called the Stone Tape theory. It speculates that inanimate materials can "record" some form of energy from living beings, especially during intense moments of someone's life. This stored energy can be released, resulting in a "playback" of the recorded activity to those sensitive enough to perceive it. In short, this theory is one way to explain the idea of ghosts.

I am a total sceptic about that kind of thing, but I have to say, my writer's interest was piqued by the notion that the love between Sybil and Tom could have been intense enough to leave a lasting physical trace on Downton Abbey itself, which could be "transmitted" in some way via the modern day Sybil in this story (whom I picture as descended from Mary and Matthew, but very like her namesake ancestor in every way!).

Finally, I'd also like to recognise the characters I borrowed from my favourite Game of Thrones House, and to acknowledge the inspiration I got from piperholmes' lovely S/T story, A Hard Sacrifice - she recently mentioned the idea of Tom sneaking into Sybil's room sometimes once they were married...

As always, I would love to know what you think! Please leave a comment, if you can. :)


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